Broken Brothers
by SanaSana
Summary: Short stories on USUK ranges from Colonial America to modern day
1. Chapter 1: I had a dream in time gone by

The sun was at its full in the almost clear sky and there was a tiny gentle wind in the air, I could feel it play in my hair. I could see the light get caught in the leaves of the tree Arthur and I were laying under. We had come outside to rest after a long day of studies of the Homeland. Just in one day we went over reading, writing, how to make tea right and other traditions. Even though I missed the ways of my mother, I craved to please Arthur in any I could. He was one of the first faces I remember from when I was younger.

He was the most honorable man I had ever met and ever wanted to meet. His smile was like getting a reward; his praise was the thing I longed for the most. "You're the only little brother I am proud of, Alfred." He would say to me when I did well when he was gone on his long trips. It would fill me with a light that shined with genuine devotion. I wanted him all round me like the sunshine that gives life to the flower. I rolled over to see that he was sound asleep, probably dreaming about one of his many adventures. I wanted to be as great as him, king of the land and sea, a gentleman in mind but a pirate at heart. I wanted to one day for him to rely on me as much as I was depended on him now. I began to go for his hand so I could soundly rest. Then an unfamiliar voice rang out for some where close by.

"Huh, looking so very careless…" The voice said. I snatched my hand away and whipped my hand away and saw an enthusiastic looking man. He wore a rosy hat with some lace on the brim and a light blue jacket with golden trim with medal cuffs. He also wore a white cravat, and a pair of dark breeches with tights. How long had he been there? I barely remember him but from the accent in his voice I knew it was Francis Bonnefoy, Arthur was at war with this Frenchman all the time. My brother detested him for some reasons that I didn't know but I must hate him too for being my older brother's nemesis.

"How shameful this is! The great Britannique Empire that senses everything on the front lines is sleeping so soundly like an infant!" I got up ready to attack if he should try to unshed his sword but he just walked by me and stood over the sleeping warrior.

"But it seems he loves you surprisingly, doesn't he?" Francis said. He leaned closer to Arthur; I couldn't stand it any longer. I walked in between them pushing him away from Arthur.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, "We are at war with each other! You are our enemy! "  
Francis laughed, "You are wrong, mon Cher garçon. I am fighting with your bien-aimé Angleterre. That means we are not enemies as you rudely assume, child."

I was silent out of embarrassment but that didn't count, I still didn't trust him no matter what he said.I turned my back to him and uttered, "Still I wish you to leave my property so my brother and I can rest, sir."

"Alfred…," He said in an immoral voice, "You don't want to see the world outside of this little fairytale you're in? You're at this time about fourteen now in human years, oui? If you went to talk with the humans in your towns, you would understand how your brother treats your people, poorly draining them dry of their money and putting his soldiers in their homes illegally. Think about it, he never lets you leave this compound to mingle with anyone other than him and your staff am I right?"

"Leave now, sir, before I call my guards to take you back to the whorehouse where you belong." I declared to him in a spiteful tone.

Once more the Frenchman snickered. "Oui and that will be the place I will be, enjoying your women! Well I will be off, keeping your kind words in my heart, revoir Alfred!"

I heard him take his leave, his shoes crunching in the grass as he hummed a song. I looked down at Arthur who was still sleeping, thought of the whole conversation that just took place. My pride of being his brother was downhearted because every word Francis said about how my brother keeps me in these grounds was all too true.

/

I gazed out of my personal library's window, trying to read but I was thinking of what Francis had told me earlier. Was what he told me the truth about what was happening to my people, who I have never seen? I knew Arthur wasn't heartless, not to my knowing he wasn't, he had always cared for me since I could recall. He wouldn't do such a thing, Francis is jealous that I live with Arthur and that my brother has the world at his feet. I can't let him into my head besides I can't let him break my brother and I apart. That's what I keep on telling myself, my heart more than anything. But in the back of my mind there was a great extent of doubt.

"No I won't listen to you French bastard," I said quietly to myself, "I know my brother better than anyone on earth…" I heard soft footsteps at the back of me; I spun around and saw Arthur standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back.

"Brother is it time to eat yet!" I said gleefully. But Arthur expression was distressed and his lips were in a long uptight scowl.

"What's wrong with you Artie?" I asked like when I was a young boy.

"Are you going to leave me for Francis?" He questioned bluntly. I was shocked by the question, how could he have known I had ever talked to Francis?!

"No, Arthur! This is all-" My sentence was stopped by a sudden pain in my hand caused by a flying object. Arthur displayed what he was holding behind his back, a leather braided whip. My eyes widen looking at my older brother with an unemotional face.

"Arthur?" I said in a shushed tone.

"I heard everything that was said, Alfred. Every word that Francis said to you… Are you going to betray your own brother, Alfred? Are you going to betray me, like my older brothers did?"

"I would never, Arthur! That's not-"Arthur's whip flied though the air and hit my left side of my face and sent me flying into one of the bookcases. Numerous books tumbled on top of me and my back felt shattered into millions of pieces.

"Don't talk back to me, you bloody fool! You're just like everyone else I have ever tried to trust!" He yelled in raged. More of the whip came into contact with my undeveloped body. My arms, legs, stomach and thighs felt the stinging and aching of the beating. I curled up into a ball and laid there as Arthur swore and cursed me ever being born.

Then it all stopped, I could hear Arthur heavily breathing and a loud hammering in my temples. Arthur shrieked in horror, dropping the whip. I stumble to my feet and wanted to flee. But all I did was I stand there and glare at the man I had loved with all my heart and who I called my brother. Arthur ran over to me and wrapped his arms around me and I didn't even try to push him away even though I wanted to because his grip sent agony though my whole body.

"Alfred…Oh my god, what have I done!? I am so sorry Alfred; I didn't mean to do this! Please don't hate me!"

Since when have I ever seen Arthur as being so small and cruel? As a child he was everything to me, I was happy to be at his side. I couldn't have seen anything that would have out shined him then. Where did all of this go wrong, when did we ever go wrong? If we could have stayed the way we were back then, neither of us would be in this pain we are now. Now I see nothing go can ever come of us not now, not ever…


	2. Chapter 2: I remember you

July 4, 1776  
Once a child is grown, he believes himself already a man and ready to take up the hardship of adulthood. But in this time, he forgets who had taught him to be a man and held his hand for his first steps… his father. The father that taught him how to raise his musket to shoot for his game… but one day the father will become the game…

Arthur Kirkland was on his knees in the soft, muddy earth of the battlefield with his face in hand. He could feel the chilling rain hit the back of his neck and run down his back, and he thought of how his tears and the rain felt so much the same. Yes he was crying and he knew he looked weak in front of his men also in front of his enemies. Then in front the person who he had hid all the years of tears from, his little brother, Alfred. His little brother… brother, no! Brother was not the word that fit the love Arthur had for Alfred, this young man who was standing forward-facing him was his beloved son! At the thought of Alfred, Arthur took his head out of his hands and looked up at his child only to be met with Alfred's bitter light blue eyes which he remembered when it was laughing and an upsetting long frown that seem to him to be wide of the mark of who Alfred was.

"Didn't you hear me, Arthur?!," Alfred roared at the top of his lungs, "All I want from you is my freedom! I am no longer a little child that neither needs you nor am I your brother! From this day on, consider me my own man and I will never run back to you, old man!"

The so-called old man heard these words, but did not make any scene to him. His heart could not take this hate that was said toward him. What could he say to make things better like when Alfred was a small child and was scared of the ghost story he used to tell him? What could he say to him to make him understand what he felt in his heart for him? Alfred was only the young age of nineteen years old, what did he ever know about being a man? What in the name of heaven and earth could he do to make him stay and not do this?

" I won't let you do this, boy! You bloody damn idiot!," Arthur bellowed back at Alfred, "Why can't you ever stick to anything to the end?! You're too young to do anything by yourself, you will more than likely die! You think your strength will save you in the end, but it won't, you crazy git! There is no way I can kill you, I just…. can't… Why, oh dear god, why…. This is so… not fair! I loved you all the days you lived! I taught you how to walk… you held my hands for your… first steps… Your my…"

he just couldn't say it…. The word son. The word that would let Alfred know how much Arthur cared for him, which might make him stay. But in the back of Arthur's mind, he knew that Alfred would leave him… but he hoped that this would pass… that this was a dream.

Arthur felt an arm rap around him and heard Alfred whisper into his ear "You know why… what happened to you Arthur? I remember when you were… great… This has to happen, it is not that I don't care about you… I need to find myself in this world, be a man on my own…. And if I fall, I pray you are by me for my last moments… I love you and fair thee well." Alfred squeezed his brother for the last time in their lives. The young man walked away from all he knew not turning around, to his unknown destiny of greatness and riches, but at the moment did not know of this, but only that he was a new being.

Leaving his older brother in total wretchedness and seclusion was more than Arthur could take. Arthur for the first time in his life felt absolutely belittled and had a heartache so painful, the rain of the gloomy day only seemed to add more sorrow. His tears flowed further and he screamed into the heavy air, "Alfred!" His men tried to get him up off the ground, but he pushed them all away yelling his child's name louder, even though he was out of sight, he still hoped he would run into his arms as a little child.  
"All I wanted was for you to love me…I just wanted someone for me to care about… that was you, damn… Alfred." he whispered to himself.

July 4, 2012  
Only time can heal a broken heart. Though there is not enough time or space to keep the pain away. The heart is still covered with scars and agony still flows within the victim's veins. When does the bitterness stop and the loss resign from the mind? Never unless you want to lose all emotions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur Kirkland sat in a large red arm chair facing the warm lit fire sipping on some freshly made tea. He felt relaxed and was very content with himself on this lazy evening. The day had gone slowly and peacefully with him spending most of the day outside walking in his gardens. He had thought that it had been a day that he could forget all his worries, and that he was grateful for it. Arthur refilled his teacup and picked up his newspaper. He unfolded the paper and took a sip of his tea, on the first page was in bold print 'ALFRED F. JONES TURNS 36 TODAY JULY 4th'. Arthur gulped his tea hard and threw the newspaper on the floor in horror. He had forgotten Alfred's birthday and now it was too late to even call him. He couldn't even believe it was 2012 and Alfred 36 years old?! Was The Revolutionary War that long ago, it felt like it was only yesterday.

It has been that long, he thought. And that horrid last name of his, I had given him an honorable last name and then he changed it just to make a point that we were no longer brothers, that git! Oh if only I had-. He stopped himself from falling back into those sad times. He had been strong after Alfred had left in his people eyes, but really he was crying almost every night. It had taken years to get over that he had no little brother to take care of. He wasn't about to let himself get miserable once again.  
Arthur rose out of his arm chair, almost knocking it over and raised his teacup to toast his little brother. He thought for a little then he smiled to himself. This will be the perfect toast for Alfred, he thought.

"Little brother, I remember when you were great… When we were brethren long ago! Here's to you, Alfred!" He raised his cup and swallowed it down with some delight.

But there was still a pain in his chest...


End file.
